When we arrived in Budapest, a little over a week ago, it was night time and we couldn’t really see anything beyond massive Tesco and Burger King billboards. Today we left in the morning and though the fog remained, it couldn’t obscure the ugliness on the taxi ride out to the airport.
Before our final Hungarian ride, we breakfasted at Szamos’ for the last time so mum could get a photo with her two ‘lovely ladies’, one of whom has been to the Sunshine Coat.
It was then time for a wander down to the New York Cafe, copying our first morning before being rushed by the hotel doorman into a cab. And then the long, nothing like picturesque trip out of town.
The queues at the airport, dodging columns and curling around other assorted obstructions, were as organised as you’d expect in Budapest. Better organised and an expert in group priority control was Zita, the travel guide with the same surname as Mirinda.
Of course, our choice of line was completely wrong as we found ourselves blocked by a family without papers…our tickets…or something essential to European travel.
Still, we eventually made it to security where mum, unexpectedly made very close friends with a tummy rubbing security guard. In future she’s going to remove her masses of jewellery in an attempt to travel unmolested.
The plane trip was unremarkable and we landed only four minutes late, which is surprising given we left late – you just have to love British Airways.
Carole met us and drive us home and we settled in for the night with fish and chips. The salad starts tomorrow.
